


Infinity, With Coffee Rings

by sachi_sama



Category: South Park
Genre: Cancer, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachi_sama/pseuds/sachi_sama
Summary: It's crazy, the way life can pull you apart and then put you back together. This time, Craig isn't letting go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "My name is Mud.  
> Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis.  
> My name is mud and it's always been.  
> 'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen." --["My Name is Mud"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCf40wrpdlc) by Primus

Craig is standing in front of his car smoking a cigarette when Clyde finds him, cheeks flushed. Clyde used to be chubby and cherubic or some shit, but he's been pretty gaunt since starting chemo a few months ago. Craig politely blows his smoke away from Clyde.

“Asshole,” Clyde says anyway. “Here I am with cancer, and you're trying to make it worse. Or get it yourself.”

“Tuckers have indestructible lungs,” Craig says. “My dad says he can hold his breath for three minutes straight.”

“Your dad's a damn liar.”

“Yeah. He is.”

Craig tosses the cigarette down and stomps on it, snorting when Clyde picks it up and carries it to the trashcan.

“Man, it's finally happened. Bebe turned you into a mushy and caring cream puff.” Craig pokes at Clyde, grinning impishly. “You guys have a garden too? Are you feeding ducks now, Clyde? Do you attend rallies about saving the world with Stan Marsh?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Clyde grumps. “Caring about the environment isn't mushy.”

They walk towards Tweak Bros. so Clyde can get a muffin to nibble on. Craig has the impression that Bebe doesn't let Clyde eat sweets much anymore, probably to keep him nice and healthy while he's getting treatment, but Craig isn't going to drive the two fucking hours it takes to see Clyde just to hear him bitch about not being able to eat baked goods and overpriced coffee flavored milkshakes. This is the first time since Clyde was diagnosed that Craig has been in South Park, and the only thing that's changed since then and now is Clyde's lack of hair.

“So when's your next treatment?” Craig asks.

“Thursday,” Clyde says gloomily.

Craig wishes he could offer some comfort, but it would come out half-assed, and it wouldn't help anything anyway. Clyde is still pumping his veins full of poison to kill a lethal illness, and flowery words won't change that. Besides, Clyde knows Craig well enough after all these years to know what Craig means without Craig having to say a word. They're on the same soul wavelength like that.

The inside of Tweak Bros. is warm and homey like it's always been. The scent of cinnamon and coffee is permeating around, and it brings some pretty intense nostalgia. Craig used to do his homework here after school because it was quiet, and because seeing Mr. and Mrs. Tweak was the only confirmation he really had that their son ever existed. Craig is prepared to pay for Clyde's order and give Mr. Tweak whatever bullshit price he names for a muffin and a frappe, but it isn't Mr. Tweak at the register.

It's Tweek.

“Holy fuck,” Clyde says, voicing Craig's thoughts articulately.

“Hey,” Tweek says, smiling with extremely straight teeth.

“Dude, we like—thought you were dead or something. You just disappeared. Where'd you go? When did you get back?” Clyde asks, probably for Craig's behalf. They all used to be friends, but Craig took it the hardest when Tweek vanished. Tweek got him on a level that no one, not even Clyde, does. They were about a month into eighth grade when Tweek stopped going to school. No one saw him afterwards, and Tweek's parents never divulged where he went, not even to Craig, who asked them every day for what must've been a year.

“That's—an intense line of questioning, man,” Tweek says. He's different than he was. He isn't as twitchy, for one thing, but it's more than that. If Craig didn't know about Tweek Tweak, he might think Tweek was a pretty serene dude based on the way Tweek is leaning casually on the counter, observing with green doe eyes. His hair is still a wild fucking mess and he's still got freckles, so at least there's a constant.

“Tweek,” Craig says, the name sounding foreign on his tongue after years of not being spoken.

“Craig.” Tweek grins like they're playing some game.

“Where'd you go?”

“Away,” is all Tweek says. “Now are you guys gonna order? There's customers.”

Clyde orders his usual vanilla ice cream coffee monstrosity with a cranberry muffin, and Craig just gets a hot chocolate. He never really developed a taste for coffee, but he can drink it when he's tired. He feels pretty fucking awake right now as he watches Tweek move around and make their orders, humming like he didn't just pop back into existence like a comic book villain.

“Mmm, it's on the house,” Tweek says when Craig tries to hand him his debit card. “Old childhood friend discount. Or something. My parents won't give a shit.” He looks up at Clyde. “Why are you bald?”

Craig snorts because he can't help it, and Clyde pouts.

“Cancer, you dipshit,” Clyde says. Tweek's wide eyes get even wider.

“Wow. Really? That sucks. What kind?”

“Lymphoma.”

“Hm,” Tweek says. “Sorry. You look pretty good bald, I guess. Like some guys have phallic shaped heads and the hair covers it, you know? You don't though.”

Craig has to bite his lip not to laugh. Usually he wouldn't give a shit about hurting Clyde's feelings, but since the cancer, Craig has tried to tone down his dickish insults about Clyde's hair. Clyde has always been a pretty vain guy, and everyone in his life knows he's self-conscious about how he looks now, but damn it all if Craig hasn't missed the fuck out of the random shit Tweek says sometimes.

Clyde leads him to a table and they sit, watching Tweek deal with the trickle of people that walked in while he was talking to them about phallic heads and cancer.

“Do you think the rumor was true?” Clyde asks as he unwraps his muffin.

“About the psych ward? Who knows. Apparently Tweek isn't talking about it.”

“Yeah. But I can't think of anything else he'd wanna keep so secret.” Clyde makes a happy noise as he starts eating the muffin, and all Craig can think of is why the fuck Clyde got _cranberry_ of all things. They look up when Tweek wanders over to them, apparently done with orders.

Tweek is still extremely thin. He always was, but it seems more intense now to the point where he's almost emaciated. He's short, too. Craig used to tease him for it and still probably will because he's an old dog at heart. He notices Tweek is tapping at his own thigh as he walks, and Craig wonders if that's what he does to stop his twitching from being so conspicuous.

“So...” Tweek begins, pulling another chair to the table and plopping down into it. “What's new?”

“What's _new?_ ” Clyde barks a laugh. “You've been gone for years, man. You're gonna have to be more specific.”

“Right. What's new with you guys then? _Specifically._ ”

Craig hides a grin. Tweek didn't used to be such a smartass. Smart-assery is something Craig can always appreciate.

“Clyde works at the library,” Craig says. “Part time, since the cancer. Oh, and he's married.”

“Married?” Tweek asks.

“Dude! We're not _married_ ,” Clyde huffs. He looks at Tweek. “Me and Bebe have just been together a long time.”

“Isn't common law marriage like seven years? You guys are coming up on seven years of living together,” Craig says.

“Whatever. I'm not getting married until this stupid cancer thing is dealt with. Proposing now is too fucking gloomy. It'd be more like me asking her to be my nurse for the rest of our lives.” Clyde looks at Craig and narrows his eyes. “And why the fuck did you decide to tell him _my_ shit? You should've just told him your own business!”

“He asked about both of us.” Craig shrugs. “Besides, you're more interesting than me.”

“That's what you like though, right Craig?” Tweek asks. His hands are lightly drumming the table, barely audible. “Being uninteresting and...and all. Healthy levels of boredom.” Tweek looks behind him at the counter, making sure no one is in line waiting for him before he turns back to Craig, fixing him with large green doe eyes. “I always envied that about you. I couldn't blend in if I wanted to.”

Craig feels himself staring openly at Tweek, so he takes a sip of hot chocolate. It's nice to know after all this time, Tweek still gets him.

“Craig doesn't live here anymore,” Clyde says. “He moved a few years ago.”

“Oh yeah? It's always weird to think of us actually getting out of this town, you know? Like...any of us. Whenever I think of South Park, I think of a timeless black hole we'll never get away from. How far away did you move?” Tweek asks.

“Just a couple hours. I lay tile out in Aurora now. I had to stay close for my sweet Clyde.” Craig pinches Clyde's cheek but it's not as satisfying as it used to be. Clyde isn't as spherical anymore.

Tweek nods and takes a sip of coffee before he starts tapping the table again.

“What about Token? And Jimmy?”

“Token lives in Denver. He's a lawyer now,” Clyde says. “And Jimmy moved to California. He's working on being a famous comedian.”

“Yeah, makes sense. Jimmy was always funny.” Tweek looks behind him again, picks up his mug, and doesn't drink. He taps the sides of the mug and then stares down into it, gaze wistful. “Token, though. I was hoping I'd see him. He was always nice to me.”

“He visits sometimes,” Clyde says.

“Visits. Right. I always wished I could get out of this place and just come back to visit.”

“Uh, you _did_ get out. You _just_ came back, dude.” Clyde looks at Craig, eyebrows raised. He used to make that expression a lot where Tweek was concerned.

“Yeah but like—South Park is more than a place you leave and don't live anymore. It's a state of mind. You never _really_ get out. People always idolize small towns but they never really consider the fact they're black holes. You can leave but you never _really_ leave.” Tweek sets his mug down on the table with some force, and as soon as his hands still, he twitches a little, but it's not as bad as it used to be.

“I feel you. I don't guess I made it out, either,” Craig says, drawing Tweek's attention. Tweek smiles.

“I really don't think anyone ever will.” He watches as someone enters the shop, and murmurs a soft apology as he goes back to his post to handle the customer. Craig watches him go and then meets Clyde's incredulous stare.

“Is this real life?” Clyde asks. “Like, Tweek Motherfucking Tweak just dropped back into town talking in riddles, and the first thing he does is come sit with us and interrogate us about the last—shit, _fourteen_ years? This has gotta be some kind of joke.”

“Well,” Craig says, “he was our friend. Who else is he gonna ask?”

Clyde studies him as he picks a cranberry from his muffin and chews it like a chipmunk. Craig thinks it's kind of cute, actually.

“You're gonna be in town all weekend right?”

“Yeah. I mean, I have to leave some time Sunday. I've got work early Monday,” Craig says. He pauses. “Why?”

“We should see what Tweek's schedule is like. I'm sure Bebe would love to see him. We could have him over for dinner or something.” Clyde sips at his Diabetes-in-a-cup. “It'll be good for him.”

“Have you _met_ Tweek? He isn't the guy you ask over for dinner.” Craig laughs at the thought, though it _would_ be funny to hear all the outlandish shit Tweek would say in an otherwise mundane atmosphere. Craig finds the guy hilarious.

“If he just got back, I'm sure he doesn't have anything better to do. He isn't like you, you know. He has to make friends here in South Park if he wants a social life.” Clyde grins mischievously. “Besides, you were obsessed with him. It has to be noted.”

“ _Sue me_ for thinking he was cool, okay. He acted different from everyone else.”

“I'll ask him. You don't have anything better to do, anyway,” Clyde says.

“Tweek was wrong. You're a total dickhead,” Craig says.

Clyde ignores him and sends a text to Bebe, Craig assumes, before he grins and then sets his phone down, finishing his muffin right around the time Tweek returns to their table.

“Hey, Tweekers, have you got plans tonight?” Clyde asks.

“Plans?” Tweek's eyes narrow. _“Why?”_

“Bebe mentioned having you for dinner. It's up to you. Craig's crashing at our place till Sunday though, and I figured it'd be cool to have the gang back together, minus Token. Maybe Token can come though? Hell, I'll ask. I've got _cancer_. He should come just to appease me.”

“He pulls the cancer card a lot,” Craig informs Tweek as Clyde breaks out his phone again. “If you've got other plans, it's cool.”

“I don't.” Tweek fidgets a little, and the expression on his face is difficult for Craig to name. “I think... I mean... If you guys don't _mind_ , it'd be pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I totally mind, that's why I invited you.” Clyde doesn't even look up.

“Are you—being a smartass?” Tweek asks incredulously.

“Are you implying Clyde is smart?” Craig can't resist. He offers a kissy face when Clyde glares up at him. Tweek snorts and gives Craig an easy smile. Craig's stomach does a thing.

“Good point,” Tweek says.

“Can I just say how _glad_ I am that you dropped back into our lives from fuck knows where, and somehow I'm already the asshole getting picked on? This is perfectly okay,” Clyde huffs.

“Easy there. Drink your sugar and calm down, precious,” Craig says, pinching Clyde's cheek, laughing when he's swatted away.

“I better get back to work before my dad comes out here and—fuck, guilt trips me into working late for not staying at the counter.” Tweek starts to stand and almost jumps out of his skin when Clyde grabs his wrist.

“Sorry! Shit, dude, I forgot you're like a skittish cat. Just give me your number real quick and I'll text you about dinner,” Clyde says.

“O-oh, yeah, okay. Hang on.”

Tweek enters his number into Clyde's contacts and practically sprints away. Craig watches him go, half tempted to take a picture of him just in case Tweek decides to vanish for another few years. Clyde stands and goes to throw his garbage away, and Craig follows him to the door, ready to settle in for whatever fuckery his best friend wants to get involved in.

“Bebe said she wasn't cooking,” Clyde informs him while they settle into Craig's car. Craig just gives him a look and turns the heat up, waiting for the windows to defrost.

“Well I hope you're planning to put on an apron and make us all some quiches. Since when are you pro dinner parties anyway? Sounds pretty domestic,” Craig says.

“It isn't _for_ me, you bastard. It's for you.”

“I never asked for—“

“Dude, just accept that you missed that crazy fucker for whatever reason. You don't talk about your shit and you bottle things up, but I'm not _that_ stupid. Your pokerface isn't as great as you think it is. Besides,” Clyde smirks almost evilly, “if you become Tweek's BFF again you have more reason to visit.”

“Wow. You're like a clingy bitch girlfriend I never got rid of. It's unattractive,” Craig says.

“Well, fuck-face, you could probably do with a few crazy ex-girlfriends. Or even boyfriends, fuck. Instead you just never date anyone.”

“I work a lot. Also, people are mostly ugly.” Craig shrugs. “I like my alone time. Not all of us need to be coddled like a puppy every five minutes.”

“Wasn't your last girlfriend Red? In like...seventh grade?” Clyde asks.

“Yeah, she was my one and only month long girlfriend.” Their “relationship” ended because Craig wouldn't hold her hand or kiss her in the hallways. They stayed friends though, and Red is the one who started the rumor that Craig was a robot. Craig embraced it because emotions were overrated and everyone thought he was an asshole anyway.

“Sad,” Clyde says. “It's been one night stands ever since.”

“What's sad is you couldn't even manage to grow enough balls to _have_ a one night stand. Bebe made googly eyes at you and here you are, ready to marry her you codependent dickwad.” Craig just drives towards Clyde's house since he wasn't given a clear directive, and there really isn't much he wants to do in South Park.

“I slept with other people,” Clyde mutters, pouting. Craig _could_ point out that having a girl suck him off at a party in high school doesn't count, especially since Clyde blubbered like a baby afterwards. He was drunk off his ass and walked to Bebe's house, begging her to take him back. It was pretty tragic. Instead, Craig just lets the baby mope until he pulls into Clyde's driveway.

“Hey, Craig!” Bebe greets when they enter, and Craig allows her to give him a hug. He always liked her for Clyde, despite his teasing. She puts up with Clyde's bullshit and takes care of him, and since Clyde's diagnosis she's kept tabs on everything to do with his cancer, going as far as to write down numbers for specialists in Denver and beyond.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Craig says. “When you gonna ditch that bald fuck and get with a real man?”

Bebe giggles and Clyde huffs.

“Craig's being extra bitchy. Tweek was at the coffeehouse, so Craig's had a boner ever since,” Clyde says, kissing Bebe in greeting.

“I can't believe he's back. I hope he wasn't in some kind of trouble before. The rumors about him were awful,” Bebe says, her brown eyes emotional. Craig wonders how it feels for her to care so much about other people, even people she barely knows. It sounds exhausting.

“The rumors were probably true, though. Where else would Tweek Tweak go if not the psyche ward?” Clyde asks, yelping when Bebe swats him. “Well, it's true! He's crazy! We've _been_ to his house. His bathroom cabinet was full of medication and that's when we were twelve. Who knows what he's on now?”

Craig remembers going to Tweek's house vividly. He went a lot by himself, usually to bother the fuck out of Tweek, but a few times Clyde and Token went with him. Tweek's house always smelled like coffee, and his parents were on another planet half the time. Tweek had seen them looking at the medication in his cabinet. He'd cried, though he hid it. Craig just knew. Craig never snooped in Tweek's things again after that.

“Either way, it's not any of your business. You better not have invited him over just to make fun of him or you can have fun sucking your own dick from now on,” Bebe says, and Craig grins.

“Wha— _No!_ I was being _nice!_ You always assume the worst from me!” Clyde blubbers.

“I'm usually right,” Bebe says. “Have you thought about dinner? Are _you_ cooking?”

“We can just get City Wok. It's cheap and it'll feed all of us,” Clyde says.

“All? Is anyone else coming?” Bebe asks.

“I invited Token, but he probably won't come on such short notice.” Clyde frowns and fishes for his phone. “Yeah, he just sent a message, he's too swamped at work. He said to tell Tweek he said 'hi'.”

“What about me? I don't get a 'hi'?” Craig asks, almost offended.

“Text him yourself!” Clyde huffs, then he pauses and looks at his phone again. “Oh, there it is, he just said he loves you, Craig.”

“He either has psychic powers or really excellent hearing,” Craig says, impressed. “I miss that beautiful bastard.”

“Me too,” Clyde says wistfully.

Bebe snorts. “He says the same thing about you when you aren't here,” she says to Craig.

“Clyde has a huge boner for me. He always has,” Craig informs her. “I was always your biggest competition.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she says with a smile.

“There was always enough of me to go around,” Clyde says, clearly pleased.

“We know. You used to be a chubby fuck,” Craig says, laughing when Clyde's grin turns to a snarl.

The day passes pretty slowly, and when the time comes to order dinner, Craig has to go online to look at the menu. He used to have it memorized, but he's erased it from his brain like most things about this town that aren't crucial. They order a shit ton of stuff so there's something Tweek's bound to like.

Tweek arrives a minute before the food does. He's carrying a bottle of wine.

“I, uh. I didn't know if I should bring anything but then I thought you'd think I was rude if I didn't, so. I mean, I can't drink it, but you guys can. So that's something,” Tweek says hurriedly.

“Oh, Tweek!” Bebe pulls him into a hug and Craig has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at Tweek, who clearly has no idea how to react. He holds the bottle of wine with one hand and awkwardly puts his other arm around Bebe, his face redder than the Merlot. Bebe pulls him to the table right as the doorbell rings to signal their food. Craig pays for half, since Clyde's got enough to pay for these days. Plus, Craig eats like a horse, so it's only fair.

“Chinese food!” Tweek says happily when he sees the bags.

“I'm sorry we didn't have _real_ food,” Bebe apologizes. “We aren't really chefs around here.”

“Haha, it's fine. My parents cook every night, so I never get to have junkfood.”

“Do you eat nothing but plants? You're skinny as hell,” Clyde says.

“I'm a vegetarian if that's what you mean,” Tweek says.

“Don't bother explaining anything to him, he's stupid,” Bebe says, shooting a glare at Clyde for his careless words.

“I am not!” Clyde cries. “It was just a question!”

“Weight is a sensitive subject! You should know! You got bullied for being chubby!”

“It's really okay,” Tweek says. “I know I'm pretty small. It's not from lack of nutrition though. I'm just—small. It's how I am.”

“We didn't know what to get so we got a lot of everything,” Craig says while the couple continue bickering. “There's vegetable stuff.”

“Awesome. Did you want some wine?”

“Fuck yeah. I hate wine.”

Tweek snorts and passes the bottle to Craig, who pours himself a glass while Bebe goes to get dinnerware for everyone. Craig takes a big gulp and makes a face, feeling accomplished when Tweek laughs.

“Why is sesame chicken so delicious?” Clyde asks, spearing some on his fork as they serve themselves.

“Ancient Chinese secret,” Craig says, inspecting what they ordered for meat. He passes some veggie eggrolls to Tweek, who takes them gratefully.

“Did you want some of this wine, sweetie?” Bebe asks Tweek. “We can drive you home if you get a little drunk.”

“Oh, no. I can't drink with my, uh. With my medication.” Tweek pauses and looks down at his hands. “My mom drove me. I can't drive,” he adds, much quieter.

Clyde looks at Craig with his brows raised, and Craig is tempted to punch him.

“You can still tell your mom not to bother,” Craig says. “I'll drive you.”

“You don't have to,” Tweek says.

“I sure don't. But I'm going to anyway.”

Tweek nods and pulls out his phone, probably to message his mother. Craig starts stuffing chow-mein into his mouth at a breakneck speed.

The rest of the evening is full of pleasant small talk. Bebe talks about her work as a CNA and her plans to return to school to become an RN once life calms down a bit, though she still wants Clyde to go first. Clyde pouts and says he hates school, resulting in another tiff. Bebe drinks most of the wine, though she doesn't get drunk. Craig wonders if she has it worked out to an exact science, or just knows when to stop drinking.

When the time comes to drive Tweek home, Craig expects Clyde to call shotgun or something, but Clyde waves them off, informing Craig he's hoping to get some before Craig returns. Craig wishes him luck and steps out into the frigid night with Tweek, who is barely dressed for the cold.

“Dude, what the fuck. That coat is flimsy as hell. Aren't you cold?”

“F-f- _freezing!_ ” Tweek says, dancing a little. “This is j-just my n-n-nicest jacket!”

“Not very nice if it can't do its damn job,” Craig says, unlocking his car. He turns the heat on full blast, though it takes a minute for his old car to warm up.

They ride in silence for little while, Craig trying to think of a nice way to say what he wants to. He isn't good at it.

“Did your parents tell you I wrote you?” he asks, feeling just a little remorseful when Tweek jumps.

“Uh. Yeah, I guess. You weren't the only one.”

“Oh. Here I thought I was special,” Craig says.

“You were! I mean—you're the only one who kept writing,” Tweek murmurs.

“So you read them, then?”

“Not back then.”

“Still not saying where you went?” Craig pushes.

“It's...just a long story, man. One I don't want to get into. I already had to tell you about being an infant who can't drive and stuff. You _do_ recall me being crazy, right? Like, certifiably? I don't like talking about it.”

Craig notices Tweek is twitching, and he wonders if it's stress related, or if Tweek's just been hiding it all day.

“You're just different. It's not a bad thing,” Craig says, frowning when Tweek just snorts incredulously.

“Well, I was off being _different_. We can just leave it at that.”

“It's okay if you're mad,” Craig says. “It was shitty of me to ask. I'm just curious though.”

“I'm not mad,” Tweek says.

“No?”

“I mean, I knew people would have questions. It's been a long time. It's just shitty being asked to talk about stuff you don't want to, even if you know you should.”

“I understand that,” Craig says.

“You're so weird,” Tweek says, looking over at him with a grin.

“ _I'm_ weird?” Craig asks.

“You've just always...I don't know. You get people. You get me. Not a lot of people do. I'm just glad that didn't change.” Tweek starts to pick at his nails, and his twitching calms a bit.

“I'm an asshole. Don't be fooled by this incredibly handsome face.”

“Right. Well, I knew that, too.”

Craig stops the car outside Tweek's house.

“I'm here until Sunday night,” he reminds Tweek. “So I'll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Sure. Just come by the coffeehouse.”

“And after that?” Craig presses.

“Seriously? You, uh... You actually want to hang out with me that much?” Tweek asks, trying to hide a smile.

“We're friends,” Craig says simply.

“Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow,” Tweek says, smiling in earnest now.

“Good. Now give me your number.”

Tweek laughs and puts his number in Craig's phone before he starts to get out of the toasty car. He shivers as soon as the cold seeps in.

“Hey, Tweek.”

“Y-y-yeah?” Tweek is already dancing.

“Don't disappear on me again. You fucker.”

“I w-won't, don't worry. Hey! T-t-text me when you get back to Clyde's, okay?”

Craig smirks. “You'll already miss me by then?”

“A lot can happen b-between here and there! Wrecks and—and m-m-maniacs! All kinds of things! Just let me know you're safe or I might not be able to sleep!” Tweek says very quickly, starting to shiver uncontrollably.

“Alright, alright. Go inside before I have to call an ambulance to thaw your scrawny ass out. Goodnight, Tweek.”

“Goodnight, C-craig!”

Driving back to Clyde's, Craig blasts his music loudly, jamming out to Primus and hoping he doesn't walk in to find Clyde and Bebe fucking on the couch or something.

Everything is finally as it should be, South Park aside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an idea I've had for a while now. I hope you guys like it! Each chapter will change pov between Craig and Tweek and each song is supposed to be specific to how I see their music tastes in this verse, if you'd like to expand your playlists. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You be the moon I'll be the Earth,  
> And when we burst, start over. Oh, darling.  
> Begin again  
> Begin again  
> Begin again" -- ["Begin Again"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIPMzeNWAtk) by Purity Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! I can't believe how well this story is being received! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos and kind messages on my tumblr. Here's another chapter for you!

The coffeehouse is quiet so early in the morning. Tweek actually enjoys it and always has, despite the fact he's technically working. There's something special about the late night and the early morning hours. When the rest of the world is asleep, there's no one to impress or hide from. Tweek is alone with the coffee, his most favorite audience.

Only a few customers trickle in, doctors from Hells Pass, fast food workers off to open their stores. Tweek wonders what it would be like to have another job sometimes, but he knows better than to think anyone else would actually ever hire him. All it would take for his applications to be thrown out would be his medical history, and then he knows the employers would go running for the hills if they had any sense.

“Whoa— _dude!_ ”

Tweek looks up from the counter to see Kyle Broflovski in the doorway, though it's hard to recognize him without the ushanka on his head. Then again, Craig wasn't wearing his chullo, so Tweek supposes he's going to have to rethink normalcy.

Kyle bounds for the counter, startling Tweek, who finds himself being hugged tightly for the second time in twenty-four hours by an old childhood friend.

“This is crazy! I never thought I'd see you again!” Kyle says. Tweek snorts incredulously.

“I guess I wasn't really aware I was so popular back then,” Tweek mutters, patting Kyle awkwardly on the back.

“Well—yeah we were kind of jerks as kids.” Kyle pulls back with a smile. They weren't really _friends_. Tweek hung out with Kyle's group of friends off and on, and he remembers being picked on mercilessly, even worse than he was picked on when he hung out with Craig's group. Tweek remembers Craig punching Cartman in the face once for cornering Tweek and trying to make him eat dirt. Kyle had found the punching hilarious.

Kyle is a little taller than Tweek, eyes still bright green and hair still wild and red. Tweek can tell Kyle puts a lot of work into his hair now, probably expensive work.

“It's pretty early. Do you work at the hospital too?” Tweek asks.

“Oh, no, I work in private practice,” Kyle says.

“But you're a doctor?”

“No, I'm a child counselor.” Kyle grins, and Tweek finds himself thinking that Kyle grew up to be cute. “I'd love to be a doctor, but that'd be four more years of school.”

Tweek notices the ring on Kyle's finger.

“You're married?”

“You remember Stan, right?”

Tweek's eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You and _Stan?!_ I mean—wow. _Wow._ Congratulations! It's just—fuck, I'm really bad with words, if you remember, so...”

“Hey, it's okay,” Kyle says. “Just slow down and say how you feel.”

Tweek recognizes therapy when he hears it. He shoots Kyle a glare, then feels bad about it.

“It's just like an alien planet, man. This place was supposed to stay the same. Nothing ever changes here, except things _did_ change. It's like that 'you can't go home again' feeling but I never thought that shit was real,” Tweek says.

“Life happens fast, dude,” Kyle agrees, and Tweek is grateful he's dropped the counselor talk.

“So, uh, how long? Were you guys together when we were kids? Did I miss that?” Tweek asks.

Kyle laughs. “God, no. It didn't happen until we were teenagers. We've been together thirteen years, now, married for three.”

“Jesus.”

“Tell me about it. Stan would be super happy to see you, too,” Kyle says.

“He would?”

“Stan loves everyone.” Kyle grins fondly as he says so.

Tweek takes Kyle's order and is busy making it while Kyle chatters in the background about some other people Tweek's been curious about. Butters supposedly railed against his parents after high school and ran off with Kenny, though they recently moved back at Kenny's insistence. Kyle talks about Kenny's supposed “spiritual marriage” with South Park with a tiny scowl on his face, and Tweek wonders how many times Kyle's tried to convince Kenny there's no such thing to no avail. Kyle always did get pissy when no one saw his logic as the right answer. Tweek is so busy thinking this he almost doesn't hear what Kyle just said. Almost.

“WHAT! Cartman and...and _Wendy?!”_

“Yeah, that was Stan's reaction, too,” Kyle says.

“Holy... How is that even possible? Wendy isn't... Did she get stupid when I was away?”

“Ha! Sorry it's just that she was Valedictorian and she makes these snide little comments about it sometimes because she beat me for it. She's good at everything but dating, I guess. Cartman's calmed down a lot since he finally landed her, though. Really he needs someone who isn't gonna take his shit, and she fits the bill,” Kyle says.

“God. None of that makes any sense. None of any of this does, dude. Cartman was a fucking—ugh. And Clyde has cancer and I had a fucking _dinner party_ with him and Bebe and Craig—“

“Craig Tucker?” Kyle asks. “He's in town?”

“Yeah, he was here yesterday. And he was _nice_ to me. I mean I guess he was never _mean_ to me before but he didn't like, smile and shit. He wasn't like that before. He didn't care about anything when we were kids except his guinea pig and cartoons.” Tweek runs a hand through his already disarrayed hair. “I'm in fucking— _Chinatown_. I can't process any of this.”

“Craig's still a dick. He sent Stan and I a collection of dildos for our wedding present with a card that just said 'Take it Jew'.”

Tweek barks out a laugh, then feels a little bad about it. Kyle just smiles though.

“Yeah, so see? Some things are still the same.”

Kyle gives his number to Tweek and then hurries out of the shop to work, leaving Tweek alone with the coffee again. He's busy stacking sugar packets into a tower when Craig stumbles into the shop looking like death itself.

“You look rough,” Tweek comments.

“Yeah. I feel like shit,” Craig says. He strides to the counter and leans against it, glaring at the menu.

“Are you sick? Dude—you shouldn't be here if you're sick. I could catch it. I hate being sick! Argh—I'll have to take more pills than I already do! That's a lot of pills!” Tweek is already counting in his head.

“Chill. It's sleep deprivation. Clyde's couch is lumpy and I don't think I slept at all last night.” Craig's still reading the menu. He squints his eyes. “Is it unhealthy to just drink straight espresso? In a large cup?”

“It's probably not _healthy_. Not like I'm a health expert. I think I read that you'd have to drink a _lot_ of coffee for it to kill you though but sometimes those reports aren't accurate. I could just pull some shots for you and see if it helps.”

“Sure, why the fuck not,” Craig says.

They're in a companionable silence for a bit. Tweek takes his time readying shots for Craig, who downs them with an awful expression. Craig is on his third when he holds his hand up.

“Okay, no. First of all, this is disgusting. Secondly, I don't feel awake. I feel like I'm vibrating.”

“That's a step up from sleeping,” Tweek says with a grin.

“You're the worst. You peddle me this garbage in a tiny cup and say it'll help just to watch me suffer.” Craig gives him a stern look. “You aren't even sympathetic to my zombie state.”

“Not really. I never sleep and you don't hear me complaining.”

“Smartass.”

Tweek smiles innocently. “Guess who came in earlier.”

“I can't believe anyone _ever_ comes in here,” Craig snarks.

“Ha. You're here. And you were here yesterday, too, okay, so you can shut up,” Tweek says, making Craig grin. “Kyle was here today.”

“Gross.”

“He told me about his marriage and stuff.”

“Extra gross.”

“And apparently you gave him dildos for a present because you're an awful person.”

“It seemed like the most useful thing. Broflovski has a stick up his ass, but I'm sure something else would fit up there with enough effort. And Marsh is dickless, so.”

Tweek laughs. “That's awful! You're awful!”

“I'm right, though.” Craig grins again, and Tweek thinks if Kyle grew up to be cute, another adjective fits Craig entirely. Handsome, maybe? Would gorgeous be offensive to another guy? Probably. Tweek offends people easily without meaning to, since it's easier to blurt everything out than to process it first.

Has Tweek ever found another man gorgeous before? Honestly, he can't remember ever thinking anyone was, gender aside. Craig definitely is though, with his black hair and light blue eyes. He always looks either bored or up to something, which also describes Craig very well actually.

“Is Cartman still fat?” Tweek asks suddenly, thinking about it.

“Probably. I try not to see him. Or anyone, really, aside from a handful of people in this town,” Craig says, shrugging.

“Am I—I mean, I guess I am in the handful, right? Since you're here.”

“Clearly.”

Tweek smiles down at the counter.

“Do you ever think about alternate realities?” he asks, blurting again.

“Frequently,” Craig says without a moment's pause.

“Okay, so like, do you think the old South Park fell into a black hole or something and was replaced with a new one? Or—or maybe _I_ was? Oh, God!” Tweek grabs at his hair and pulls. It's a bad habit he's been working on breaking.

“What makes you ask?” Craig asks, still calm. He frowns and smacks Tweek's hands out of his hair. “Stop that. Clyde's bald enough for you both without you pulling your hair out.”

“Just...everything changed? And Kyle said some stuff that was true, I mean, life does happen fast but to think of things changing _here?_ Am I the only one who thinks this place is in some kind of void where things should always stay the same?”

“You aren't the only one. Things did stay the same, to me. I guess it's just because you weren't here while things were changing, so you came back to everything being different than it was.” Craig starts messing with the sugar packet tower Tweek was making before.

“I guess. Well. You left, too. Do you ever feel this way?” Tweek asks.

“Kind of, but I guess it doesn't get to me because I hear firsthand from Clyde and Token about any changes in their lives. I don't really come back and get surprised. But this time I did, since you were suddenly here.”

“Surprises are good sometimes. One of my therapists said that to me—hey. Hey!” Tweek squawks as Craig knocks over his looming tower of sugar packets. “I had those color coordinated!”

“Sorry. Hey, when can you leave?” Craig asks, clearly not sorry at all.

“Whenever my dad gets here. He likes to sleep in now that I can watch the store in the mornings. He doesn't like getting up early,” Tweek explains.

“Cool, so around lunchtime?”

“Yeah, did you want to go somewhere?”

“You're upset,” Craig says simply. “I have things I like to do when I'm upset.”

About an hour later, Tweek's dad comes in. He smiles at Craig and pats Tweek on the shoulder, looking as serene as he always does after he takes his morning medication.

“Hello, boys. It's a wonderful day today,” he says.

“Dad, do you mind if I go somewhere with Craig?” Tweek asks.

“Mm. Where is this 'somewhere'?”

“The pet store,” Craig says before Tweek can answer.

“Oh. That's fine. Just don't bring anything home, Tweek. You know what your mother would say.”

Tweek's climbing in the passenger seat of Craig's car when Craig speaks again, so he almost misses it.

“Huh?” he asks.

“I said why can't you bring anything home? Your parents don't like pets?”

“Oh. Well, I'm not supposed to have anything to take care of. My parents think I'm...not ready for that,” Tweek says glumly. He hates having to admit things like that, but it's easier to tell the truth than to have to keep track of a lie.

Craig's jaw is set as he starts his car and pulls out of the parking lot.

“So they just decided that? Your doctors never said you couldn't have a pet?”

“A couple of my doctors thought it'd be good for me to have...you know, like a fish or something small. My parents were always against it though. They don't really think I can even take care of myself, much less a defenseless animal.”

“That's really—uh,” Craig pauses. “That's super shitty. That's what they think your limitations are, but have you tried testing your own?”

“No,” Tweek says quietly. Craig looks over at him.

“I'm not saying you have to. You should, though. No one knows what you can do better than you.”

“I feel like I'd kill something. Or hurt it. I don't want to have that on my shoulders,” Tweek says.

“Do you remember to brush your teeth and shit like that?” Craig asks, and Tweek nods confusedly. “Okay, well it's the same thing. You brush your teeth in the morning and then you give the fish some fish flakes. It's like a routine. And fish die sometimes but that doesn't always mean it's anyone's fault.”

“Do you have a pet?” Tweek asks to get the focus off himself.

“Nope. I'm hardly ever home, and when I am home, I'm asleep. I could get a fish, though. They're pretty low maintenance.”

“I'm surprised you don't have a guinea pig,” Tweek says.

“I had one. He died,” Craig says.

“Recently?”

“A couple years ago. I didn't buy him, someone gave him to me. He died pretty young. Do you remember Stripe?”

Tweek smiles at the name of Craig's old beloved guinea pig. He nods.

“Yeah, he lived to be nine. That's older than they usually get. I haven't bought one since he died. There won't ever be another one like him, you know?”

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, aside from Craig's music, which is some kind of heavy metal music Tweek doesn't listen to. He snorts when they actually pull into the pet store parking lot.

“I wasn't sure if you were serious,” he admits.

“I'm always serious,” Craig says. “Unless I'm not,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows.

They journey through the cold into the warmth of the store. Tweek's never been to a pet store before, since he always knew he wasn't supposed to have one. He sees bird cages as soon as they enter, but Craig pulls him to the side, towards some glass containers where there are mice, hamsters, and—of course, guinea pigs.

“See, look? Don't you feel better already? De-stressed? I know I do,” Craig says.

“They're cute,” Tweek admits. A tiny black one catches his eye. It has a cute twitching nose, and it doesn't take its eyes off Tweek.

“That one likes you,” Craig comments as Tweek moves his finger along the outside of the glass just to have the little ball of fluff chase after it.

“Yeah, it's so...” Tweek's eyes fill with tears. “It's so little. I think I'm gonna cry, just 'cause it's so cute.”

“Hang on,” Craig says. He shuffles away and leaves Tweek to play with the guinea pig for a moment. He comes back with an employee Tweek recognizes.

“Well, hey there, Tweek!” Butters says jovially. He pulls Tweek into a hug, and Tweek is starting to think he'd better get used to this. “I almost didn't believe Craig when he said you were here! How have you been, buddy?”

“Good,” Tweek says, his eyebrows raised. “I'm just, you know. Here.”

“I'm here, too! Craig said you wanted to hold one of the guinea pigs?”

“What? No! I can't hold one! I'll drop it!” Tweek practically shouts.

“He wants to hold it. I'll supervise and make sure he doesn't drop it,” Craig says.

“Okay, good. We have to be careful about who we let hold things around here. Kids like to be mean sometimes!” Butters starts to open the cage, and Tweek seriously considers running for it. “Which one of the little fellas did you wanna hold?”

“The black one,” Craig answers.

“Oh yeah, I've been callin' him Midnight!” Butters scoops the little guy up and holds him out to Tweek, who twitches.

“I—I can't, man! That's too much! I'll hurt it!”

“Hand him here, Butters,” Craig instructs. He takes the little guinea pig and pets him gently before holding him out to Tweek.

“Craig, I can't,” Tweek says.

“You can do it. Come on, trust yourself a little. You won't hurt him.”

Nervously, Tweek lets the little fluff ball drop into his hands. He quickly pulls it to his chest and cradles it, staring down at it with wide eyes.

“Is it a boy?” he asks.

“Yep!” Butters says. “He's about three months old!”

Tweek pets him carefully, and feels emotional again as the guinea pig twitches its nose and whiskers at him.

“He twitches like I do,” he says softly. He doesn't pay attention to Craig's and Butters's conversation as he plays with the guinea pig, who really does seem to enjoy being held.

“Well,” Craig says after a few minutes. “He's yours, if you want him.”

“Huh?” Tweek asks lamely.

“I'll get him for you. It'll be good for you to have a pet, and I can tell you love him already. He can stay in your room.”

“I... My parents would kill me. And what if I forget to take care of him? Or...” Tweek starts.

“I'll personally text you every day to remind you if that's what it takes. Just buy him food and clean up after him and your parents won't even really know he's in your room.”

“I can give you guys a discount!” Butters says happily. “You should get him, Tweek, he likes you! Better you buy him than some little kid who really doesn't wanna take care of him.”

Tweek thinks of the poor guinea pig being ignored by a snot nosed kid and he finds himself nodding his head.

Somehow he ends up back in Craig's car with a new guinea pig, a giant cage, some food, and some other supplies. He feels overwhelmed as he holds the little box carefully in his lap.

“You really didn't have to spend all that money,” he says.

“It wasn't that much,” Craig says, though it was over one-hundred dollars. “I'll just live vicariously through you since I'm not home enough to have my own.”

“He'll be okay while I'm working, right?” Tweek asks worriedly.

“Yeah, he'll be fine. Are you changing his name?” Craig asks.

“I don't really like Midnight,” Tweek admits. “I think he needs a cooler name.” Tweek thinks about it for a minute. “What about Espresso?”

“You _would_ name him after coffee,” Craig says. “Yeah, I like it. Espresso _did_ wake me up today, a little. It's worthy.”

Luckily, both Tweek's parents must be at the shop, because the house is empty. Craig helps him carry everything upstairs to his room, and then puts the cage together while Tweek holds Espresso, still marveling at the fact he has a pet now. A pet that _likes_ him.

“Is Clyde working today?” Tweek asks, wondering why Craig wants to spend time with him when he came to see Clyde.

“Yeah, till five. He only works part time, so I wasn't gonna ask him to take the weekend off. I knew I'd have something to do.”

“Do you think I offended him yesterday? About the, uh, phallic head comment?” Tweek asks guiltily.

“Definitely.”

“Oh, no!”

“Relax, Clyde gets offended about everything,” Craig says with a smirk. “Did you forget he's a crybaby? Trust me, you can't offend him more than I usually do. He's already over it.”

“It was still insensitive of me. I have a bad habit of blurting things out. It's just...so sad he's got cancer. Poor Clyde... I can't imagine.”

“He's gonna be okay,” Craig says, his voice soft. Tweek notices the change in Craig's expression, and he knows to change the subject.

“Well, good for me and Espresso you're here this weekend! Now he gets to have a home,” Tweek says, petting Espresso, who he's letting roam around the bed while keeping a close eye on him.

“I never noticed how rodent-like you were until I saw you next to one,” Craig says. “They say people look like their pets, but this is a whole new level.”

“I'm not rodent-like!” Tweek huffs.

“Small, twitchy, easily frightened. Totally rodent-like.”

Tweek grumbles and wills Espresso to leap off the bed at Craig's face, but it doesn't happen.

When the cage is done, Tweek puts Espresso inside it and readies his food and water. It's easy enough, and Tweek thinks it should be simple to incorporate it into his daily routine, like Craig said.

“You promise you'll remind me every day?” he asks.

“I won't have to, but I promise,” Craig says.

They hang out and play with Espresso until a little after four. Craig says he has to go pick up Clyde from work and spend quality bro time with him, which Tweek understands. Tweek really wants to stay with Espresso and make sure he gets settled in anyway. Also he wants to make sure his parents don't find Espresso on their own and freak out.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Craig says, and Tweek blinks dumbly up at him.

“You want to hang out again tomorrow?”

“Clearly you don't recognize how friendship works,” Craig says. “I just bought you a guinea pig. I've bought your affection. So tomorrow you have to hang out with me and Clyde again.”

“Oh my god, _fine_. My affection isn't cheap, though! It'll cost more than a guinea pig!” Tweek teases, then he blushes. Did he just flirt? Was that flirting?

“Be off tomorrow,” is all Craig says before he leaves.

Tweek has a hard time explaining the new guinea pig and an even harder time convincing his parents to let him off the next day, but they relent when Tweek tells them Craig is leaving and won't be back for a while. He hurriedly picks at his dinner and then goes back upstairs with Espresso, who seems to be making himself quite at home.

Tweek spends the rest of the evening writing in his journal, one of his many coping mechanisms. He fills three pages with his worry over his new pet, and also his excitement over doing something he was always told he shouldn't do. It feels liberating, in a way. He wants to do his best to take care of Espresso, and he doesn't want to let Craig down, either. No one has ever believed in him before. It's something he doesn't want to lose.

The next morning he finds himself in the backseat of Craig's car. Craig still looks like he hasn't slept, and Clyde is eating a fast food sausage and cheese biscuit blissfully like it's the best food he's ever had.

“So where are we going?” Tweek asks.

“To see a movie,” Craig says.

“It's not scary, right?”

“ _Clyde_ is with us,” Craig scoffs. “Clyde can't watch scary movies.”

“Fuck you!” Clyde says. “I can watch them. I just think they're stupid.”

“He'll cry. It's best to avoid the headache.”

They end up watching some comedy that has Tweek laughing loudly, and he'd be embarrassed, but everyone else is laughing too. They don't notice him, and Tweek finds himself thinking it's so nice just to _blend in_ , even if it's in the darkness of a movie theater. He shares popcorn and Skittles with Craig, and Clyde has what seems to be a lap full of candy on Craig's other side.

“I just feel bad for him since he never gets to have junk food at home,” Craig had said at the concession. Tweek thinks it's probably good for Clyde to have some calories, since he's gotten pretty thin.

By the time they're walking through the parking lot back to Craig's car, Tweek has forgotten Craig is leaving soon. That is, until Clyde mentions it.

“You could hang out a little longer. Leave after dark. You'll be up all night anyway.”

“I won't. I'm planning on crashing since your lumpy ass couch didn't let me sleep at all this weekend,” Craig says. “Besides, I've gotta do laundry and shit. Tomorrow starts a long week.”

“Feels like you just got here,” Clyde mumbles petulantly.

“Well, I'll be back soon enough. Try not to eat too much candy while I'm gone or Bebe will blame me.”

They drop Clyde off first, since he's the closest. Clyde gives Craig a tight hug that makes Tweek's ribs hurt in sympathy, and then they're driving back to Tweek's house.

“I forgot you had to leave today,” Tweek says.

“You gonna miss me?” Craig asks.

“Yes,” Tweek says without pause. “You're easy to get used to.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one!”

Craig pulls in front of Tweek's house and puts the car in park.

“Ugh, my dad's gonna ask me to work the night shift. I know he is. Oh well. I guess I should play with Espresso while I can.” Tweek looks over at Craig. “Be careful, okay?”

“I'll text you when I get back,” Craig says. “You aren't planning on leaving town before I come back, are you?”

“No. I promise. And even if I did, you have my number.”

“I'll probably text you a lot,” Craig says, nodding to himself, and Tweek doesn't bother asking why. “You'd better respond.”

“I will!”

“And send me pictures of Espresso.”

Tweek laughs. “I will!”

“I want updates on every thought in his guinea pig brain,” Craig says seriously.

“Okay, okay! I promise!” Tweek says, laughing harder. He stops when he notices Craig looking at him with a strange expression on is face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Craig says quickly. “I'd better go. But first.” He leans over the glove box and pulls Tweek into a hug. Craig smells like cigarettes and movie theater popcorn. Tweek leans into him and hugs him back. It's the easiest hug he's had to return.

“Take care of yourself. And Clyde, if he needs it,” Craig murmurs. He pulls back and the strange expression is gone, replaced with his usual neutral one. “And don't hang out with Kyle or Stan too much. They'll turn you into a douche.”

“I guess your only option is to come back soon and make sure I'm not their new BFF,” Tweek says, and Craig snorts.

“You are _such_ a smartass. Fine. I'll be back before you know it.”

Tweek exits the car and walks up to his front door before he turns around and waves to Craig, who waves back before driving off. Tweek sighs and goes inside. He's climbing the stairs to his room when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It's from Craig.

_I missed you Tweek_

Tweek manages to type back that Craig shouldn't be texting while behind the wheel after he gets done blushing and smiling like a loon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My tumblr](http://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


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